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Wednesday, September 5, 2012

I AM Auntie Mame....

Big Freaking News: The Boy's sister and her husband are expecting a child. And, since this is my blog, which means everything is about me, that means that I can now expect to be an aunt! An aunt! Aunts are important! I've loved all of my aunts! I'm so excited I could pee*.

When discussing possible monikers, I wasn't satisfied with the typical Aunt/Auntie Sarah options. There was something lacking. Then I remembered what I've been periodically bellowing at The Boy for the past few weeks:

I. am. Auntie. Mame.

If you have not witnessed the cinematic brilliance that is Auntie Mame, stop reading this and go watch it now. I'll wait. It's on Netflix Watch Instantly so it will be easy-peasy-don't-be-sleazy.

It may be subtle as a blow to the head and 45 minutes too long but it is also the singularly most influential film on my life and style since Roman Holiday. It was made in the 50s about the 20s, so there's bright colors, loud patterns and headwear up the wazoo. To prepare for the child-to-be**, I've put together a small list of what it takes to be Auntie Mame.Note: I have not been sponsored by any of the following companies, nor do I own any of the following items. In other words, if you want to buy them for me, I'll be your best friend forever because I fucking love presents.

I don't smoke, but I do hold a fake cigarette to go with my bourbon or coffee whenever I write and now I think it may have to go in a chic as fuck holder. Also excellent for gesticulating.

All fashion related ramblings aside, though, I am so happy for the expecting parents. They are rock stars, and their kid is so lucky he chose them. They also come with a crazy big tribe of endless support and love, including this pleased as punch aunt. Now someone get me a damn glass of punch.

*And I've only had to breathe into a paper bag once. Because, you know, aunts are important. And I'm a little afraid of babies. It's the soft spot.**Who, in honor of another idol of mine, will be known forthwith as Schlomo.

Auntie Mame is one of my all-time favorite movies and I have always been a fan of Rosalind Russell. There are so many wonderful tid-bits about that movie I could tell you, but here's two: in the party scene, where we first meet the great Mame Dennis, she comes down the stairs and is saying hello to people. She shakes a monkey's hand. That was NOT supposed to happen; the monkey stuck out his hand and Ms. Russell was just shaking any hand. How funny is that? Also, by the time this movie was made, Roz Russell had already had a double mastectomy. You'd never know it.

By the way, did someone put a whole bunch of advertisements in your blog? Or did you approve the stuff above this comment?